Imagine Your OTP
by Kuro49
Summary: Drabble. Peter/Neal. Of luck and karma and teeth and tongue, and of course, being stranded together in the elevator.
1. Out Loud

Updated whenever I find something to my liking, this will be my collection of drabbles inspired by prompts pulled off of Imagine Your OTP tumblr. Ratings and pairings may vary, AU/canon are all equally likely to occur. :) Hope there will be something for everyone!

1. Imagine your OTP explaining their scars to each other (be they serious or silly).

XXX

**Out Loud**: _Of men and scars and tragedies that don't happen._

XXX

Peter smooths a palm over Neal's thigh until the tip of his index finger rests on top of the healed scar of a bullet's entrance wound from a good four years ago. And there is still an anger that thrums on top of a rush of helplessness he has felt during those early days when Neal has ran to a place almost halfway around the world.

"Collins."

Neal looks decisive for a fraction of a second before he pulls his thin shirt over his head so he is kneeling on the bed with Peter in only his briefs. And it is finally another moment before Neal takes hold of Peter's hand and puts it to his chest, over the place where his heart beats as a reminder that Peter hasn't always been helpless, not when it comes to his ex-CI.

"Remember Striker's crossbow?"

Neal gives him a pointed look before he takes his finger and puts it to the center of his forehead.

"And Keller, and Adler and all those others."

Neal clasps Peter's hand in his and reminds him again, a little more firmly.

"Fowler." And the name brings back bad memories, Kate Moreau, and a bullet Neal nearly fires. "You stopped me when I would've killed him."

What Neal doesn't say is that Peter has blood of men, bad men but men nonetheless, on his hands for him. What Peter doesn't need to protest in reply, because Neal knows just as well, is that Peter would do it all over again to protect Neal from harm. In the same way that Neal will pull the trigger to save Peter from Keller or go undercover all over again, knowing the danger every time.

Neal drops Peter's hand back on his bare thigh, leans in with a smile before admitting. "This is nothing."

And it is a barely there graze of skin to skin when their lips meet, again and again, each time a little deeper than the last.

XXX Kuro


	2. Roam

What is an OTP without a bit of a zombie!AU? Not a perfect one, of course! ;) 2. Imagine your OTP becoming zombie-slaying badasses.

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**Roam**: _Of guns and machetes and the undead of NYC._

XXX

Neal doesn't like killing but he hates dying even more.

The machete slippery with blood in his grip, blade rusty with the stench of gore and death in what used to be New York, now a modern day apocalyptic wasteland he never thought he would live to see. He takes a step back in reflex when a zombie launches at him, his back hits something hard—_BANG_!

Its head explodes, splattering red against the black asphalt street.

Neal snaps his head back to see Peter who has a hand around his waist to steady, and the other extended straight to shoot another zombie coming their way.

Another bang, another undead falls to its knees.

And it isn't like his heart skips a beat but there, in the dusk light, Peter looks perfect enough to kiss. (Blood against his cheek, suit ripped at the cuffs, tie abandoned somewhere in the New York backdrop.)

"Nice shot."

Neal breathes out with a smile just as Peter turns his head to reply with a feral grin of his own.

And his ears may still be ringing a little but it doesn't take much more than tracing the curves and curl of Peter's mouth to read his lips.

"FBI issued," he says.

XXX Kuro

Because of course, Neal will insist that they kill zombies in suits.


	3. Kill Joy

A bit of an early holiday fic because I feel especially festive this year! :) 3. Imagine your OTP on Christmas as they exchange gifts, snuggle, and wear ugly sweaters. This one is OT3 too!

XXX

**Kill Joy**: _Of holiday spirit, Christmas sweaters and the best time of the year._

XXX

Peter is not fashion conscious by far, Neal knows this like he knows his Matisse from his Raphael. But even ill-fitted suits and sweaty Bureau issued t-shirts are better to what Peter has just pulled out from the back of his closet.

"Don't say a word."

"But—"

"No. El's mom made this one," Peter pulls out another, "and this one," and then another, "and this one too."

"You know, I'm sure Moz won't mind me around."

If Peter doesn't have the years and years of first hand experiences of Christmas with El's parents, Peter would laugh because that is real fear in Neal's eyes when he sees the patchwork of Santa hats on one.

"I'm sure that you won't be getting out of this one either, Neal."

"But are you sur—"

"Unconventional or not, El wants them to know."

"…But do we have to do it in these?"

Neal picks up a scratchy hand knitted sweater with reindeers prancing across the shoulders and then down along the arms, holding it up at Peter like it physically hurts him. (It probably does.)

"As the gentleman in this, I'll let you choose first." He pulls open a bottom drawer for Satchmo's before quirking his head back to offer. "But just so you know, the reindeer is the least itchy around the neck."

"Oh. _Joy_."

XXX Kuro

I have this odd fascination with writing ugly Christmas sweater, I swear.


	4. Drip-Drop

Oops, I think I used up all my holiday-fic ideas. 4. Imagine your OTP sharing an umbrella as they wait for a cab in the pouring rain.

XXX

**Drip-Drop**: _Of rain, umbrellas for two and bright yellow cabs in the night.  
_

XXX

New York is cool when it rains.

Except it is downright pouring when Peter finally decides the rain isn't going to let out first and calls it a night.

"I called a cab."

"Then I guess we wait."

And of course, they can talk about the case, the growing pile of insurance fraud no one wants to touch or even how El is still out of town and so is June. (They can even wait inside the FBI lobby where it is warm and dry) but sometimes, it is the quiet moments that make this good.

Neal opens the umbrella and they both step out into the rain. It might be the hypnotizing drip-drop above their heads or the fresh scent of a rainstorm in the air, Neal doesn't notice himself leaning in and Peter may be too tired to hold himself up.

But when the cab finally arrives, they are both reluctant to pull away.

XXX Kuro

Can we ignore the existence of the Taurus for the sake of this prompt, please?


	5. Suspend Reality

I read somewhere that Tim Dekay has always wanted an episode where Neal and Peter are stuck in an elevator. So here I am, going why-the-hell-not. 5. Imagine your OTP getting stuck in an elevator together.

XXX

**Suspend Reality**: _Of analytical detective work they know too well and being stranded together in the elevator._

XXX

Neal guesses he should be grateful for small miracles, that neither of them are claustrophobic or anything just as disadvantaged in their current situation, but really _he is stuck in an elevator with Peter_.

It's an easy trick to pretend that this is just Peter Burke.

(This is also the same man that has caught him twice before. And sometimes, everyone seems to forget that.)

Neal doesn't know how.

Perhaps Peter may be an even better conman than Caffrey himself. After all, Peter doesn't even need to crack a smile to disarm those around him, he has a gun for that. Neal doesn't know what it is but it is a fact that easily slips, not that Neal allows himself to make that same mistake. Not since that very first time when he has his hands behind his back, caught up in a pair of cuffs with Kate staring at him with real fear in her eyes.

So yes, it is easy to say that he is intimidated when he is stuck in here, a smaller space than the Supermax cell he has survived in for nearly four years.

Neal glances up from his spot on the ground to see Peter with his thinking face on. He suppresses the urge to roll his eyes and asks instead, breaking the silence that has just began to settle between them. "Are you really analyzing me right now?"

He doesn't try to hide the disbelief in his voice, it is choked full of it to cover the fact that he has also been doing the exact same thing.

"Has there ever been a better time?" Peter quirks his head to the side and grimaces at their situation. "There's nothing to do but wait, and it's not like we—not that _you_ can go anywhere."

"Do you want me to try?" Neal raises a brow and gestures Peter to sit down on the elevator floor as well. There is a moment that Peter wants to decline but he is sitting in the next and Neal has to grin at the slightest of influence he has over this man.

"I'll pass on seeing the great Neal Caffrey at work."

"You think I'm great?" Neal throws him a grin.

Peter rolls his eyes and says. "Best thing since sliced bread."

And it is also moments like these when Neal knows exactly what Peter will do with the things he learned from picking at Neal Caffrey's brain, and that is exactly nothing at all.

XXX Kuro

Also, this is posted in celebration of WC's return: TONIGHT!


	6. The Good Life

It's been a while since my last Imagine your OTP drabble, and this was written in a spur of the moment because gah, Peter and Neal dressed like their prom picture. Don't wonder too much about details, I took small liberties with the prompt in itself. 6. Imagine your OTP arriving home from a party or some type of formal event, and then cuddling on the couch in their formal wear.

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**The Good Life**: _Of you and me in formal wear.  
_

XXX

Neal is usually predictably careful with his suits, painstakingly so at times when all Peter wants to do is tear at it. But Neal is also unpredictable at worst, unexpected at best, and that, Peter also knows just as well.

So when their undercover operation finally wraps up at two in the morning, with their perp in holding until their agents get more than 2 hours of sleep to drag him out for a full confession, Peter drives them both to his house (closer of the two options and at that point, no objection has been made. Though afterwards, Neal would like to point out that he has been buttering up the mark for a good week or so, he can take Satchmo's bed and be grateful).

They stumble through the door with rattling keys and half-on suit jackets already working their way down a shoulder.

"Bed."

But the two of them turn to the stairs and simultaneously decide that it is simply too much effort. Neal tosses his waistcoat on what could have been the banister of the stairs and asks, eyes already drooping closed. (They will end up finding it over the vase in the hall.)

"Couch?"

"Couch is good."

Peter nods in reply and walks the two of them over to it, falling halfway down into the cushions before Neal is dragging the duvet over them.

The two of them fit together in an unspoken unison, rearranging limbs blind as he works an arm around his waist and his hand reaches halfway to work at the fancy bow tie around his neck. He sighs as he rests his head back and his eyes close in exhaustion, their legs stretching out to touch the coffee table, knees bumping along the way.

And, it is bliss when complete darkness hits them both.

.

It is early in the morning when Peter wakes up with his black bow tie still half undone around his neck, a sense of pins and needles making its way up his left arm. Bleary eyed, Peter turns his head to find Neal, in what remains of his crumbled suit, deep asleep, and their hands still loosely interlaced between them.

XXX Kuro

This is my best attempt at fluff, I am not cut out for this.


	7. Suspend Fantasy

We all knew this was coming: 7. Imagine your OTP getting stuck in an elevator together, just the two of them, and decide to pass the time until someone comes to help them by making out… ;D

XXX

**Suspend Fantasy**: _Of luck and karma and teeth and tongue, and of course, being stranded together in the elevator._

XXX

The first stutter goes unnoticed, the second has them looking at each other.

The third becomes a full stop and the two men in the suspended elevator stare at each other a little longer before Peter is pressing the help button with the mocking little yellow alarm bell.

"I cannot believe this." He mutters with disbelief underneath his breath, jabbing the button with a little more than the necessary force several more times in frustration.

"Well," Neal states, leaning back with a raised brow at their current circumstance, "aren't we lucky?"

"This is not luck." Peter rolls his eyes at the small ironic smile curling at Neal's lips with memories of their last incident of being stranded in the exact same elevator. "It's karma, Caffrey."

"Karma for that suit you're wearing, yes."

"Karma for all the things you've done." Peter retorts in reflex.

"Come on, Peter." And Peter could've swore that Neal has been standing on the other side of the elevator before he is leaning in, impossibly close, wicked eyes bright in the very next moment. "I know a great way to pass the time."

"Oh my god, no." Peter tries to push the other away, hand on his chest. Except that only seems to urge his CI further on, and instead of stepping away, Neal wraps a hand around the one on his chest and twists himself until they are pressed right up against each other.

It's a manoeuvre Peter's never seen anyone make (but then again, people tend to want to move to get away, not to get even closer like this). Peter looks Neal straight in the eyes, sees him for every trick and lie he has ever pulled, and still manages to fall for those blue eyes like he is, somehow, _still_ that sucker being handed a bright green lollipop in broad daylight.

The irony doesn't escape him.

"This is a terrible idea."

"You love it."

There's pointed laughter in his eyes and the curving corners of his lascivious smile. And it is obscene when he drags the tip of his hot wet tongue across his teeth, sliding slick along his lips. Neal pushes himself closer, and this is coercion in the sweetest, softest ways.

"Come on, Peter. Kiss me already."

XXX Kuro

There's nothing not cheesy about this, but goddamn, I love cheese. :D


End file.
